


lubricated.

by DictionaryWrites



Series: The Dashing Collected [5]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Cute, Dreams, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 08:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15602628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Taneleer sleeps.





	lubricated.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Sorry, were you sleeping?

Taneleer glances up from the text he is reading, carefully paging through. He examines the individual pages with great care, reading through every paragraph with some care, but the knock upon his bedroom door interrupts him. Sliding from the mattress, he steps across the room, and he draws the door open.

“Sorry,” Fandral murmurs. Taneleer rather  _regrets_  letting Fandral out of his little cage, when Fandral is so… Taneleer looks at Fandral’s chest, which is naked, and glistening with– With oil. “Were you sleeping?” Fandral asks softly.

“Why are you… Lubricated?”

“Ease of access,” Fandral replies, with a winning smile. 

Taneleer shuts the door.

“ _Taneleer!”_  Fandral calls from the other side, and Taneleer steps neatly back as he pushes the door open. Taneleer looks once more at Fandral’s pectoral muscles, and he reaches out, touching his fingers against Fandral’s sternum, which is heated to the touch, and so…  _slick_. “If you weren’t sleeping, why can’t I disturb you?”

“I’m reading a book… about stamps.”

“Oh, excellent,” Fandral murmurs, and he slides his hands onto Taneleer’s waist. “I could not care less.” Taneleer frowns. 

“But–” Fandral’s hand touches against the side of his jaw, and Taneleer lets out a low sound as he feels Fandral’s tongue slide over his own. Taneleer allows it, for a few moments, and then he winds his hand in Fandral’s hair, gripping it tightly and dragging his head back slightly. “How expeditious can you make this process?”

“Why don’t you take a break,” Fandral murmurs, “for a mere half an hour, and let me fuck you silly?”

“I don’t want… to be silly.”

“Too late,” Fandral says dryly. Why  _had_  Taneleer let him out of the cage? He–

Oh. He didn’t.

                                                          —

Taneleer shifts up from the desk, stifling a yawn against his hand. Fandral is watching him, pressed against the glass, and he watches Taneleer indulgently, his lips quirked into an easy smile. “You should go to bed,” Fandral says. “Why not come to mine? It’s closest.”

“You are…  _insufferable_ ,” Taneleer says.

“Alright,” Fandral purrs. “Set me free then, and I shall leave you alone.” Taneleer’s lip twitches, and he looks at Fandral with evident amusement, his chin rested against his palm. “Or, you could free me, and I could keep your bed warm.” 

Taneleer chuckles, quietly. “Perhaps another night, Fandral.”

“Perhaps, perhaps,” Fandral murmurs, and he lies back flat upon the floor of his cage. “But never the bride.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Hit me up on Tumblr](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/faq). Requests always open.


End file.
